Test Prints

Print on fabric

I've been mulling over some test prints of the sand photographs. I have prints on 3 different types of paper and 1 type of fabric.  I had very high hopes for the fabric, but because it is sheer, a lot of the photo information was lost making the image looks washed out. My printer usually offers a more opaque cotton option, but it is on back order at the moment. I might revisit that later. 

The first paper print is on a bright, white etching paper that has a heavy body and prominent tooth. I like the paper very much but I'm afraid that its texture competes with the image a bit too much. The second print is on a bright white fine art paper that is more smooth, probably too smooth for my taste. It's nice but doesn't really add much to the image. The final print is on a bamboo derived paper that has just the right texture and a warmer color. The paper's hue works wonderfully with the colors in the image. It's tooth also seems to enhance the texture of the print. I'm not sure that I have completely nailed the printing method but I'm off to a good start. Now I have to think about scale for my first set of 6, full size prints on the bamboo paper.

Test print on bamboo paper

Detail of test print on bamboo paper

Test print on fine art paper

Detail of test print on fine art paper

Test print on etching paper

Detail of test print on etching paper

Painting Landscapes

Leaving the topography of the form white draws attention to the interplay between light and shadow. I think shifting the direction of the texture might create some interesting, unexpected patterns.

So a month ago I was really excited about these object/painting hybrids. A couple of weeks past and I finished the first set of forms and found myself ready to start painting. Then I ran into a problem. I realized that although I brainstormed and sketched the forms, I did not have a clear idea of what the finished, painted work would look like. I knew I wanted to do something with surface texture or pattern, but I wasn't exactly sure what. I was very happy with the forms themselves but once I started working on the underpaintings, not so much anymore.

I think I reached a point where I was overthinking these pieces. Since the concept behind them is rooted in childhood, I figured that I should try to recover a sense of play. I've resolved to work intuitively, which is something I normally reserve for my sculptural work. I immediately started building some new forms so I can try a different approach on each of them, working my way through the problem.

Started building some new forms to play with.

Finished the 3rd form and ready to paint.

Covering the first form with beads.

I like how the bead's iridescence gives the illusion of cloth.

Results from using Rice Paste Resist

I recently finished the last of three cotton panels I made to explore different types of resist for cool water batik. You can check out the original post here. The design on the final panel was made with rice paste resist. I found this process takes longer and is much more labor intensive. To create the resist, I boiled 1 cup of rice in 2 cups of water for 30 minutes adding more water as it was absorbed. When the rice reached a thick, starchy consistency, I used a blender to pulse it into a paste. This paste was too thick to apply with a brush, so I used my fingers to press it into the fabric. Since I was concerned about the paste breaking down as I rubbed coffee into the fabric, I reinforced larger areas with more rice. The resist was very thick and sticky and took a couple of days to dry completely. To my delight, the resist held up much better to the coffee application than I expected. I let it rest for overnight instead of the day and a half that I waited for the original 2 panels. 

The next afternoon I rinsed out the resist and ran into some issues. Either because of the shorter set time for the coffee or because I had to use warmer water to rinse out the (super wash-resistant) rice starch, the color of the coffee barely registers in some areas. Depending on how the light hits the panel, at times you can't even see the pattern at all. These presents some new problems. Out of the three types of resist; I think that rice has the most potential formally and content wise. It creates a line that is softer than the wax resist but more definitive than glue gel. I have to figure out how to apply the coffee so that the stain remains as I remove the resist. I'm currently working on a pattern that includes an encoded map of a particular path I walk every Tuesday and Thursday. I planned for this work to be much larger than the 12" x 36" panels. However, since I can foresee a lot of experimentation necessary to nail down the process for this work, I'm going to divide this pattern into smaller parts that will be assembled together later so that I can work faster.

The pattern on the top portion of the panel is barely discernible.

The color on the bottom portion of the pattern is more successful, though I'm not exactly sure why.

The Decisive Moment

I'm very excited about developments with the sand paintings. I just ordered some test prints today on paper and textile. I've also been considering how to display the images once I decide which material to use. I believe the new method of matching the landscape and ruins into diptychs drawing connections between the idealized memory of a landscape and its inevitable destruction and transformation is promising. I also have some ideas concerning how to display sand installations. Originally, I wanted to build or repurpose a table. Now, I'm planning to build a wall-mounted or hanging shelf out of plexi so that the sand can be viewed from every possible angle. I would like to know if a clear surface underneath will help to eliminate boundaries between the viewer and the work encouraging more intimate interaction.

Maybe I spoke too soon...

A couple of posts ago I said that the most important aspect of my work is time rather material or labor. Now I'm not so sure. Tonight, as I made countless slow, meditative circular motions with my hand to rub coffee ground paste into a piece of cloth, I revisited that decision in my thoughts. Perhaps the material is of little consequence. It doesn't matter whether its dyeing and drying sand, then sifting it back into its fine texture, pouring identical little piles of sand, or neatly arranging sand into smooth rows. It doesn't matter whether its carefully pressing rice paste into fabric to make a pattern or rubbing coffee into fabric to stain it. Clay, sand, newspaper, cardboard, coffee, cotton, rice, flour are all simply materials. Materials that outside of the context of art are not regarded very highly. Labor (the time, process, and effort I exert) is the agent that turns these humble materials into art.

Progress is Slow but Steady

I've made progress on several fronts this week and look forward to seeing where things end up. I've spent much of the last few weeks feeling a bit lost and frustrated that some projects I'm working on are too different and don't relate to each other much. Today, I came to the realization today that I just need to think and worry less about where I'll end up.

One project that I'm working on is a series of object/painting hybrids. I started by building cardboard forms on a masonite base, then covering those forms with papier-mache. This week, I finished painting several coats of gesso on the first two. The built forms are inspired by imagery from the childhood landscapes I've been exploring in my sand work. The paintings I will use them for will focus on experimental surface treatments and abstracted patterning. It takes a while for them to dry in between layers of papier-mache. While I waited, I started building a third object also based on my grandmother's backyard. Today, I will finish applying the 2nd layer of paper.

I also made some progress on the coffee-batik panels this week. I was concerned about the edges which unravel erratically during the dyeing process. I intended for these panels to portray an immediacy that will be lost if I hem the edges. After some experimentation, I found that fraying the edges can be an appropriate solution. I've also learned that for future panels, I need to pay better attention to how I cut them to help the fraying process move faster and more efficiently. I have a rotary cutter for fabric I used a while back to make fabric collages. I plan on digging that out from its hiding place so that I can use it to make precisely vertical cut. While researching African textiles for this work, I uncovered a possible link between West African textile techniques and African American quilting traditions. I'm trying to get my hands on a book of the subject called Accidentally on Purpose to research it further.

Lastly, I'm working on collection of  slip-cast biomorphic forms used to create a pattern which will be partially submerged in sand. This project is moving more slowly than I anticipated because I'm working with molds that have to dry between castings. The first firings resulted in work with disappointing surface texture. For these newer pieces, I'm using rubber ribs to burnish the work while its leather hard before smoothing it further with a bit of chamois. 

Why Use Sand?

As I mentioned in my last post, I continue to use loose sand as the primary medium for these landscape memory pieces because of its visual resemblance to a natural landscape, references to working directly with earth (soil), and references to time and ephemerality. I will continue to create multiple works inspired by the same landscape to compare their visual elements and what they seem to communicate, to refine this language further.

How Does One Record an Ephemeral Experience?

Earlier this semester, I decided to create ornamental patterns based on the documentation of flora and/or natural structures I encounter while spending time in a particular landscape or traveling from one place to another. At the time, I wasn't really sure what form the work would take. I started collecting leaf and pod specimens documenting the time and location of where I found them so that when the time came I would have a lot of source material to choose from. I also started taking pictures of patterns I found in nature, hoping to incorporate them somehow into the work. 

Although sand has been a great medium to depict my memories of landscapes, I do not believe it is an appropriate medium to record impressions of current, day to day experiences.  The idea behind this work is to document ephemera found in the landscape with a medium that has personal significance. Unlike the sand paintings, it is not intended to replicate an actual landscape. I also wanted to employ a medium that gives the impression that the work may or may not be old, but without the permanence of paint. I thought an appropriate medium should imply fragility. It should look like it has been around a long time, but in fact, only a trace of it might remain in the future.

As I spent some time considering what the best medium for this project might be, I thought about coffee grounds. For the past several months, I've been collecting coffee to use in sand paintings.  I occurred to me that coffee grounds might be a more appropriate medium for several reasons:

1. Coffee is personal -- the medium represents a ritual that I engage in daily.
2. Coffee is ephemeral -- it also represents something that I enjoyed for a short time.
3. Coffee comes from a plant that is cultivated by humans and processed for consumption.
4. Textile art references feminine craft traditions.
5. Batik, in particular starch-resist batik techniques, reference African craft traditions. 

My first attempt at this new direction depicts a pattern I created based on observations from the recent Super Blood Moon. I used 3, 12" x 36" cotton panels.

 To my delight, I found this technique to be very process driven. I started with a drawing, transferred it onto a cotton panel with chalk, filled in the pattern with resist, let it dry, rubbed the panel with a paste I made out of coffee grounds and water, let it set for a day, rinse the fabric to remove coffee grounds and resist, let dry. I researched and used 3 different resist techniques: glue gel, soy wax, and rice starch. The glue gel was easy to apply and remove. The final results were nice, but the edges were a little too soft for my taste. The soy wax resist required the additional step of ironing the fabric to remove the wax. This technique yielded a patter with crisp edges that I found appealing but the wax is much more difficult to remove than the other two techniques. I'm currently working on the rice paste resist which takes a bit more effort to create and apply. I had to boil the rice until it started breaking down, blend it, and apply it to the fabric using my fingers instead of a brush. It also has a much longer drying time. I will report the final results as soon as I'm done.

I'm not sure what to make of this new direction. The only thing I'm sure of is that it needs more work, including which resist method to focus on, how to thoroughly remove the soy wax, resolving how to treat its edges (for now I'm attempting to fray the edges a bit and trim them to intensify an aged look) and how to hang it. One thing that I found very intriguing about the process is the fact that it involves the erasure of all of the actual marks/brushstrokes made by my hand on the panel. In a sense it is a negative painting, with my marks being washed or ironed away in the process.

Is the Work About Making/Constructing or Material?

The answer is neither.... The work is about time.

Uncovering the answer to this question surprised me. Six months ago, I would have said that my sand paintings were about the material. When this question came up during the residency, I couldn't articulate why I thought material was so important to me. I love working with sand as a medium. However, as I considered the actual themes behind my work and the ideas I want to address, I realized that sand itself really wasn't that crucial. I believe that sand has been an excellent tool for communicating what I want to say but it isn't the only one available to me. 

As I continue to move forward with the sand work, I do so with the awareness that the crux of my creative exploration includes the ideas of ephemera, time, and change. I want to replicate/document fleeting moments in time and create temporal experiences. Methods that I use to construct work and material are important, but the act of making and the process of unmaking through entropy are pivotal. The ruins of the sand paintings I've been working on, in my mind, are of equal importance to the original creations. They become a metaphor for processing childhood memories and feelings of nostalgia and loss. After creating idealized landscapes, deconstructing them serves as a springboard for a new landscape; one that is a combines idealized patterns with more realistic forms.